Interlude
by pineconeface711
Summary: Her mind tells her that any possible explanations are beyond what can logically be deduced. Her brain tells her to stop, to put away the fairytales, and she almost, too willingly, obliges. Lydia Martin is too smart to fall victim to the petty the imagination of the sleep-deprived sixteen year old adolescent she has become.


Something is happening again.

It's something to that deals with _that. _Lydia Martin doesn't even understand what that necessarily is, only that it's something they keep her away from.

She doesn't understand. She only sees that man who haunts her—even though he's not living in her head, she sees him when she closes her eyes—who's name she still doesn't know. She thinks she's seen him before, back in the beginning of the year. She'll close her eyes, and think back to that night at the video store when that _thing _burst through the window.

Lydia had forgotten about it. She was blissfully unaware of it until that man came back, and charged through her window. All that she carefully swept behind in the darkest depths of her mind came back to destroy her.

_Am I losing my mind?_

And Jackson… She didn't even know what was going there. There were so many loose ends and untied knots that were so tangled she couldn't weave her way through. He was something before, she knew that. Some sort of reptilian creature when she showed him the key. And now he was… something entirely different. He let her back in yet shut her out all the same.

All Lydia can think about before she closes her eyes are haunting blue from Jackson, and monster's teeth from that other man.

No one will tell her anything.

Her mind tells her that any possible explanations are beyond what can logically be deduced. Her brain tells her to stop, to put away the fairytales, and she almost, too willingly, obliges. Lydia Martin is too smart to fall victim to the petty the imagination of the sleep-deprived sixteen year old adolescent she has become.

She just wants to talk to someone, but no one has the time. They're all busy, no doubt too busy dealing with _that_. Allison has totally shut herself off from anyone who isn't her dad. Lydia can understand that, with her aunt's death, her mom's suicide, and her grandpa's death all falling too close together. Sometimes Lydia thinks that maybe it all has to do with the unmentionable. She knows Allison is involved. Excuses about a mythical roleplaying game, demanding the translation of that Archaic Latin text, the sneaking around with Scott, the last name Argent—silver, Lydia knows her elements like the times table of multiplication. She's smart enough to conclude with all the things going on that name has significance—that she'd been hearing so frequently, seeing as her entire family took over Beacon Hills High. And she was there that night. With her dad. Not to mention that time she was kidnapped by Allison, Stiles, and Jackson, brought to Scott's house, and apparently someone "broke in" so she had to hide.

_Jackson, Stiles, Allison, Scott._

What are they doing?

Jackson went from adoring her to hating her to totally losing his mind to regaining it.

Stiles, the kid who drives a piece of crap Jeep, knows the strangest fun facts, and has a witty retort for everything took her to a dance, and ran that _thing _Jackson was down with said Jeep.

Allison: from best friend to riddled with so many secrets Lydia can't even count them.

Scott suddenly overcoming his asthma, to become a lacrosse superstar. That doesn't just happen overnight. Only it did for him.

_Erica, Boyd, Isaac._

They're apart of it too.

Erica, the girl who couldn't de-frizz her hair if her life depended on it now walks around like she owns the male population of Beacon Hills. Once again, an overnight sensation.

Boyd, who couldn't run a mile, dominates a lacrosse game. The physics behind that doesn't add up.

Isaac. The same lanky, timid boy that read Spiderman comics, struts around in leather jackets.

_Derek._

Well he just showed up from nowhere and brought all this baggage with him.

Lydia might be the It Girl at school, but that doesn't mean she doesn't watch what happens to the lowly. Lydia Martin sees everything.

It's all a web of connections that Lydia can't connect.

_Argent—no silver. The strange things that happen when the moon's full. That flower in the punch. The "animal" attacks. Red eyes and blue eyes. Those teeth. Jackson, Stiles, Allison, Scott, Erica, Boyd, Isaac, Derek. _

It all goes together, but this is not a puzzle. These pieces don't fit, and she can't understand what sort of equation she's solving.

She just wants to know what they're keeping from her. She just doesn't want to be alone in this anymore.

Wherever they are right now, Lydia knows it has something to do with everything she can't know, she knows it is dangerous. Someone will most likely be dead in a few weeks. It seems like nowadays that's always what's happening.

She doesn't want to be shut out, left to wonder if her nightmares are real life.

Since that night, Jackson shut her out, Allison shuts everyone out, she hasn't seen Erica or Boyd for weeks, Derek never comes out of hiding, Scott and Isaac are buddy-buddy, Stiles is following them in pursuit.

Lydia is alone. In a car. Crying.

Again.

"Oh, but you're so important, Lydia."

She stiffens. She knows that voice, almost better than her own. She hears it frequently enough when her eyes are closed. Only it's not the same as it was before. Before it was like he was controlling her—she scarcely acknowledges that he was—now it's just his voice, his taunts.

She doesn't move a muscle. Maybe if she doesn't move her nightmare will end.

"You'll always be so very important to me," he answers to her silence. She doesn't like his voice. It sounds like a predator, yet smooth, calm, and matter-of-factly.

"Stop," she begs, but she still can't face him. "Just go away. This isn't real."

His finger strokes her cheek, almost like he means well to her. She must admit that thankfully it feels like a normal, _human _hand.

"Oh, but my lovely Lydia, now I am. And it's," he gently places his hand under chin, and turns her head to face his. She's almost surprised to see that the flesh is not burnt, and that he's clean. "You I have to thank for that."

He smiles. Lydia thinks that it might possibly be sincere. He's what most would call handsome, but that doesn't register when all Lydia can do to not start sobbing is let the numbness override her body when he's near.

"You've been so _outstandingly _brave that I can only add that to my list of admirations I have of you." Another smile. "And you know," he puts his hand on her cheek, "the only people who cry are the ones who were strong for too long. I told you that you were a strong girl, and you seem to only sustain minor psychiatric discomforts."

Lydia stays numb. He doesn't try to harm her, or threaten her, which is a new development, but not exactly reassuring.

"Who are you?" She finally manages, although her voice shakes.

And of course, he smiles. "Peter Hale."

Lydia is somewhat stunned by the honesty. She didn't expect an actual answer. She was waiting for a vague statement that he would allude to.

He understands her predicament. "I told you I thought you deserved to know everything."

"It doesn't make sense." Lydia says. She can feel the tears build up again. She hates crying.

"Doesn't or…?" Peter lets the question hang.

"It can't," she concludes, but looking into Peter's eyes, Lydia feels her mind start to stir.

"You deserve to know everything, Lydia. You're smarter than us all, I think you already know."

_The full moon. Immunity. The flowers. The animal attacks. Jackson, Stiles, Allison, Scott, Erica, Boyd, Isaac, Derek, Peter. _

_Peter's teeth._

_Jackson's eyes._

Oh.


End file.
